Benedict's Challenge - Wishes Fulfilled
by patemalah21
Summary: In response to a Benedict's Reddit challenge, a story involving cheek bone polishing and fantasy fulfillment.


**Benedict's Challenge – Wishes Fulfilled **

Forward

_Narrator: Gentle readers, first and foremost, I wish to point out that the disturbing occurrences which are to follow are not of my doing. I am here to merely relate what happened. The blame can be laid directly at the feet of the actor Benedict Cumberbatch, who somewhat sarcastically requested a "horny, time traveling f**k fantasy" involving himself, Tom Hiddleston, and Matt Smith. His words, dear ones, not mine. _

_I know the tender hearts of the readers and writers in this fandom, and I could not imagine anyone depraved enough to fill Mr. Cumberbatch's request. Certainly, knowing the high standards and literary goals of the members of Mrs. Hudson's Kitchen Forum, I reasoned that no writer would even consider such a request. To my surprise and dismay, I was wrong. Sadly, the following is but one such sordid tale. Be careful what you wish for Mr. Cumberbatch._

_._

**Our story begins two hundred years ago in an abandoned coal mine, somewhere east of Cardiff:**

.

The three wizened old women bent over the smoking caldron whispering incantations in a rhythmic drone.

.

Boil, boil, concoction of oil,

Elixir of hope and dreams.

Stir, stir with all you've got

Watch it thicken in the pot!

.

Eye of newt, tongue of toad.

Sting of wasp, paint of woad.

Wing of bat, brain of gnat,

Fur of dog, and claw of cat.

'

Boil, boil, concoction of oil,

Elixir of hope and dreams.

Stir, stir with all you've got

Watch it thicken in the pot!

.

Thread of purple bind so true,

Horn of helmet act as glue.

Bow of traveler, knot so tight,

Turn the mixture into white.

.

Boil, boil concoction of oil

Elixir of hope and dreams.

Stir, stir with all you've got,

Watch it thicken in the pot!

.

In all of time, in all of space,

Bring these three unto this place.

Fulfill their every fantasy,

Be it hate, or ecstasy.

'

"Tis' finished my dearies," The first crone, whose name was Samella, whispered in a raspy voice.

"Yes," agreed the second crone named Grizella, as she gave the mixture a final stir.

"I'll just add a bit of luck!" The third named Bertie cackled madly as she waved a wand over the caldron, and then carefully dipped the thick cream into three small pottery pots. She sealed the lids and glued on labels which read: Mother Crone's Zygomic Polishing Cream.

.

**Present Day**

.

To their surprise, the three actors found themselves crowded into the makeup trailer on the Cardiff back lot of the Doctor Who set. They had been summoned by no other than the great Moffatt himself, for a photo shoot to promote the introduction of the latest incarnation of the Doctor. Each man sat in a chair in front of a lighted mirror waiting to begin the day.

"I can sort of understand why you two are here." Hiddleston grumbled, "but why me? What have I to do with all this?"

"I thought I got away from all this, and here I am, back already," mumbled Smith.

"Cumberbatch just shrugged his elegant shoulders and sipped his cup of tea. Privately, he was looking forward to the day. The shoot wouldn't take long, and he had plans to just relax, smoke a few cigars, and read the latest fanfics. He wouldn't admit it of course, but he was secretly addicted to the stuff, especially the ones that involved Molly Hooper and Omega Verse. He thought those were especially hot.

There was a brief knock at the door and three makeup artists entered the small room.

"Hello dearies, I'm Bertie. This is Samella and Grizella. We're here to get you ready." They stood gazing from one man to the other. "Goodness, what a plethora of cheekbones!" Grizella exclaimed merrily.

Two of the men grinned and preened a little. Cumberbatch, looked at the floor and blushed. Between the three of them, the men managed to corner the market on rugged good looks.

"Well, we can't have all that beautiful skin drying out. I have just the thing," Samella said and pulled three small pots from her makeup case and handed one to each man.

"You can start by rubbing this on your faces. Pay particular attention to you Zygomic regions." She instructed briskly.

Hiddleston frowned. "You aren't going to put it on us?"

"Oh no, that would negate the effect," Bertie giggled. "Just try it."

"Once it has been applied, well take over," Grizella said with a slightly raunchy laugh.

Hiddleston frowned, looked at his friends who looked back at him. The three men opened the small containers and dipped their fingers into the cool white creamy mixture.

"Oh!" Cumberbatch groaned in pleasure.

"That's quite lovely," Breathed Smith.

"Hey, this stuff is good," Hiddleston laughed.

"Just rub your cheeks dearies," Samella purred. "That's right, close your eyes and keep rubbing. Think happy thoughts . . ."

The three women watched in satisfaction as the men's bodies faded away until nothing was left except for three small empty clay pots.

"Hurry sisters, we must quickly follow them back in time." Grizella urged as she passed out more vanishing cream.

xxxxx

_**Cardiff caves- Two hundred years ago- Give or take a day.**_

_Narrator: Much later, or, um, earlier if you take in account for time travel, which can be rather confusing and sort of timey-wimey at best. Anyway, we find our heroes two hundred years in the past and in the clutches of the three witches of Cardiff. Let's check in on Matt Smith first . . ._

Matt Smith was somewhat formally attired. Considering that he still was wearing his bow tie. He lay on his back, shackled to the bed. Grizella lay beside him. She had transformed herself into a lovely red-headed vixen. She curled up against Matt's silky skin and caressed his smooth bare chest with her fingers.

"Ummm, Matt groaned. Who knew you could do that with fish fingers."

Grizella giggled. "Well the custard certainly eased the way."

"Do you think you could release me now?" Matt asked rattling the chains to his handcuffs coyly. "These are quite restrictive and I have no intention of escaping.'

"What will you do if I release you?" Grizella asked.

Matt whispered in her ear. Grizella grinned and got off the bed to fetch the key.

.

_Narrator: Perhaps we best leave these two to their own devices. Let's check up on Mr. Cumberbatch. I'm a little concerned about his welfare._

In the second room of the cave, Benedict Cumberbatch reclined on a leather Chesterfield couch and smoked his favorite brand of cigar. He lazily formed smoke rings as he watched his reflection on the ceiling mirror.

Bertie, now transformed into a slender long haired blonde, waved her wand over him and changed his hair color from curly black to straight blond.

"Hmm," she whispered in a throaty voice, "I believe I prefer you as ginger." She waved her wand and completed the change.

"Auburn." Benedict said. "It's called auburn!"

"Whatever it's called, it's sexy!" Bertie said. Her eyes traveled down his form. His trademark Belstaff was unbuttoned. The only other article of clothing he wore was his scarf, but it wasn't tied around his neck.

"Sorry about your scarf," she giggled. "I'm afraid it's quite soiled." She frowned. "Why is it purple? I thought your scarf was blue."

"We decided to change it up for season three." Cumberbatch said, then gasped; "Oops! Spoilers!"

"Never mind. It's not a problem, telly hasn't been invented yet." Bertie laughed. "Now tell me about this Omega Verse you like so much. What happens if you are the Omega and I'm the Alpha?"

"I prefer to be the dominant one!" Cumberbatch huffed.

"Are you sure?" Bertie purred as she approached the couch.

_._

_Narrator: Um, yes. We best be moving on. We need to check on Higgleston. He may need our aid. As we approach the third cave and hear wild laughter and screams of terror. Oh dear, brace yourselves._

.

Round and round the room Higgleston, helmet askew, chased a frantic Samella.

"Come here, wench!" Higgleston roared. "I'm not finished with you yet!"

"Just leave me in peace for a few moments." Samella panted from the other side of small table. "You have worn me out."

"Honey, the night is just beginning." Higgleston laughed wickedly as he jumped over the table and landed on the beleaguered Samella, their bodies crashing to the floor.

.

_Narrator: Well, I see that Higgleston has everything in hand, er, I mean, I don't think he needs us anytime soon. Perhaps this is a good time to bid our heroes farewell. If you want more details, I will leave it to your own imaginations._

_._

_**Fin**_

_**A/N -**_

_**I urge everyone to join Mrs. Hudson's Kitchen forum and accept Benedict Cumberbatch's Reddit Challenge. Below is an exact copy of his comment/request. Let's flood the internet with responses! -grins cheekily (zygomatic pun intended)**_

_A reddit quote said "We like nothing better than buffing our Zygoma. And imagining a horny time traveling long overcoat purple scarf wearing super sleuth nordic legend f**k fantasy. Get to work on that, internet."_


End file.
